Deep Down | Page 9

break skulls as well as
preventin' worse, so we can do no less than show 'ee the road; but hark
'ee, sur," here the man became very impressive, "ef you do chance to
come across any of us in your travels, you had better not knaw us,
'xcept in an or'nary way, d'ye understand? an' us will do the same by
thee."
"Of course I will act as you wish," said Oliver with a smile, "although I
do not see why we should be ashamed of this affair, seeing that we
were the party attacked. There is only one person to whom I would
wish to explain the reason of my not appearing sooner, because he will
probably know of the arrival in Penzance this morning of the
conveyance that brought me to Cornwall."
"And who may that be?" demanded Jim Cuttance.
"My uncle, Thomas Donnithorne of St. Just," said Oliver.
"Whew!" whistled the fisherman in surprise, while all the others burst
into a hearty fit of laughter.
"Why do you laugh?" asked Oliver.
"Oh, never mind, sur, it's all right," said the man with a chuckle. "Iss,
you may tell Thomas Donnithorne; there won't be no harm in tellin'
he--oh, dear no!"

Again the men laughed loud and long, and Oliver felt his powers of
forbearance giving way, when Cuttance said to him: "An' you may tell
all his friends too, for they're the right sort. Come now, Maggot here
will show 'ee the way up to St. Just."
So saying, the stout fisherman conducted the young surgeon to the
mouth of the cavern, and shaking hands with him left him to the
guidance of the man named Maggot, who led him through several lanes,
until he reached the highroad between Sennen church-town and St. Just.
Here he paused; told his companion to proceed straight on for about
four miles or so, when he would reach the town, and bade him
good-night.
"And mind 'ee, don't go off the road, sur," shouted Maggot, a few
seconds after the young man had left him, "if 'ee don't want to fall
down a shaft and scat your skull."
Oliver, not having any desire to scat his skull, whatever that might be,
assured the man that he would keep to the road carefully.
The moon shone clear in a cloudless sky, covering the wide moor and
the broad Atlantic with a flood of silver light, and rendering the road
quite distinct, so that our traveller experienced no further difficulty in
pursuing his way. He hurried forward at a rapid pace, yet could not
resist the temptation to pause frequently and gaze in admiration on the
scene of desolate grandeur around him. On such occasions he found it
difficult to believe that the stirring events of the last few hours were
real. Indeed, if it had not been that there were certain uneasy portions of
his frame--the result of his recent encounter on the beach-- which
afforded constant and convincing evidence that he was awake, he
would have been tempted to believe that the adventures of that day
were nothing more than a vivid dream.
CHAPTER THREE.
INTRODUCES A FEW MORE CHARACTERS AND HOMELY
INCIDENTS.

It was late when our hero entered the little town of St. Just, and
inquired for the residence of his uncle, Thomas Donnithorne. He was
directed to one of the most respectable of the group of old houses that
stood close to the venerable parish church from which St. Just derives
its title of "Church-town."
He tapped at the door, which was opened by an elderly female.
"Does Mr Thomas Donnithorne live here?" asked Oliver.
"Iss, sur, he do," answered the woman; "walk in, sur."
She ushered him into a small parlour, in which was seated a pretty,
little, dark-eyed, rosy-cheeked girl, still in, or only just out of, her teens.
Oliver was so taken aback by the unexpected sight that he stood gazing
for a moment or two in rather stupid silence.
"Your name is Oliver Trembath, I presume," said the girl, rising and
laying down the piece of needlework with which she was occupied.
"It is," replied Oliver, in some surprise, as he blundered out an apology
for his rudeness.
"Pray sit down, sir," said the girl; "we have been expecting you for
some time, and my uncle told me to act the part of hostess till his
return."
"Your uncle!" exclaimed Oliver, whose self-possession, not to say
impudence, returned immediately; "if Thomas Donnithorne be indeed
your uncle, then, fair maid, you and I must needs be cousins, the which,
I confess, fills me with satisfaction and also with somewhat of surprise,
for up to this hour I have been ignorant of my good fortune in being
related to so--so--"
"I made a mistake, sir," said the girl,